


Adjusting Telemetry

by Shiros_Hero



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:18:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9179206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiros_Hero/pseuds/Shiros_Hero
Summary: How Shiro asks Lance on a date





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yamagata_deserved_better](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamagata_deserved_better/gifts).



Chapter One

Shiro’s head slammed into the table, knocking him awake with a sudden burst. He looked up, a hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in an attempt to clear the last of the sleepiness away. Insomnia was finally catching up to him. Three days without sleep and it was only now, in the middle of organic chemistry, that he was finding some rest. Unfortunately, the nap would have to wait for another time. It looked like partners for the next labs were already starting to pair up, and Shiro had missed the metaphorical boat. Almost everyone, spare a couple of the smarter kids capable of doing the lab on their own, had a partner but him. 

A particularly desperate student in the row in front of Shiro was clinging to Hunk, who was a practical genius when it came to engineering, probably begging to let him be his partner.  
Shiro only picked up bits and pieces of the conversation, mainly Hunk’s deeper voice. “Lance, just ask Pidge. He’ll help you out,”

And the other student, presumably Lance, “That’s a no-go. Already talked to Pidge.” 

Hunk threw up his hands, “Well find someone else to partner with! Last time I let you partner with me it took me two weeks to grow back my eyebrow. Two weeks, Lance.” Shiro snickered, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his smile. Apparently it didn’t go unnoticed because Lance whipped around glaring into the next row of the lecture hall like looks could really kill, “What are you laughing at, pea-brain?” Shiro took a moment to compose himself, trying to snuff out his smile the best he could before speaking, a grin still tugging at his face despite his best efforts.

“My name’s Takashi, but most call me Shiro, and I don’t have a partner either,” Shiro extended his hand down across his desk and down to where Lance was sitting. Lance, whose animosity had practically evaporated the minute Shiro introduced himself, took Shiro’s hand and shook it firmly. “I know who you are. And I’m sorry for the pea-brain comment. I’m Lance - Lance Mclain,” 

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Lance. Do you want to buddy up?”  
“Only if you don’t care about the wellbeing of your facial hair,” Hunk huffed. Shiro’s lips quirked up into a small half-smile, “Ah, it’s alright. I need a shave anyways,”  
Lance smiled back and gathered his things from in front of him, sliding them into Shiro’s space. “Just give me a sec’ and I’ll be right up there with you,” Lance said, shuffling out of his seat. Despite his earlier protesting, Hunk looked almost hurt that Lance would abandon him so quickly, but the mock offense quickly turned to exasperation when Hunk returned to filling out the preliminary papers for the lab work. Lance had finally made his way around to where Shiro was sitting and had only stepped on a few toes on his way over. “Hey, partner,” Lance said as he took one of the empty seats next to Shiro. 

Shiro gave a small wave in reply, picking up his pencil and shuffling through the folder in front of him to find his own prelims, and pulling out an extra set for Lance, who took them graciously and pulled out his pencil.  
Shiro stopped him before he could touch pencil to paper though, “This stuff is pen only. They want to make sure we aren’t copying off of someone else,” Shiro said as he handed Lance one of his pens. Lance nodded in thanks, and started filling out his forms. Shiro was halfway through filling out the front of the page when Lance nudged him with his elbow and spoke again, “So, uh- You’ve done this before?” Shiro nodded, not taking his eyes off the paper. Lance fidgeted for a bit, the tap of his pen barely audible above the mummer from the rest of the lecture hall, before turning back to Shiro “So uh, I sort of transferred in and I was wondering if you could show me the ropes or just-” “Sure,” Shiro turned to face him and tilted his own paper towards their new workspace. Lance had just started picking up on what Shiro was trying to explain to him when the professor at the front of the class called for a dismissal. As students began slowing trickling out of the classroom, Hunk stood and turned around, resting his large forearms on Lance and Shiro’s workspace. 

“Hey, Shiro. Lance and I have a free period before flight sim today and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?” Hunk said. Another voice from behind them quipped, “Yeah, maybe you could show these two knuckleheads how to listen to their navigator.” 

Lance scoffed and puffed his chest out like an agitated rooster, “Pidge, you of all people should know the Tailor does not need a navigator!” 

Shiro raised an eyebrow, a tiny smile on his face. “The tailor?” He asked. The groans from both Hunk and Pidge didn’t seem to bode well, but Lance grinned and leaned in closer to Shiro. “So you want to know why they call me the tailor?” Shiro gave an apprehensive nod, watching Hunk as he slid off of the table in exasperation,“It’s because of how I… thread the needle.” 

Lance’s friends groaned in disappointment and Hunk reached over the row, pushing Lance as if to say ‘knock it off’. Shiro didn’t really understand what Lance had meant, but it didn’t take long for him to come to one of the worse conclusions. “Lance,” Shiro scolded him. 

“Oh come on,” Lance said, “Not you too.” 

Hunk stood, gathering his binders in his arms and shrugging his laptop bag back into place. “Sorry, Lance. Better luck next time.” He said. Pidge clambered down from their seat, opting to just climb over the row instead of having to walk all the way around the end of the lecture hall’s long tables, and joined Lance. “We should get going,” They said, looking down at the watch on their wrist, “Even if it is a free period, the cafe is only open for another thirty minutes.” 

Lance looked over to Shiro, “So are you coming with us, or do you have somewhere else to be?” 

“Sorry, but I’ve got World Econ this period. Maybe we could get together for coffee sometime instead?” Shiro replied. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were asking me on a date. Should I give you my number now or later, stud?” Lance winked, picking up the few papers scattered in his workspace without breaking eye contact. Shiro could feel the tips of his ears burning, and he was sure that his chest was flushed too. He hadn’t meant to hit on Lance, but it wasn’t like he was going to take it back. Lance was attractive and witty, and Allura was already scolding him about finding someone to bring to parties. There was no harm in asking him out. The worst that could happen wasn’t even realistically that bad. It wasn’t likely that Shiro would see anyone in college again once he graduated, and that was only a few years away. 

“I guess I am asking you on a date. I’ll take that number now, if you don’t mind.” 

Pidge snorted and patted Lance on the shoulder, “Looks like you finally got yourself a date. Congrats, Tailor.” And Lance, for all his worth, kept a fairly cool composure, with only the slightest of pinks spreading over his cheeks. “Thanks, Pidge. Now if only you could find a girl into short guys,” 

“Hey now, Pidge already has a girlfriend,” Hunk said, “He even carries around a picture of her,” 

Pidge frowned and crossed their arms. “I told you that’s not my girlfriend.” Lance nodded, a smirk plastered onto his face while he wrote down his number on a scrap piece of paper. He folded it up and handed it to Shiro, who took it with a smile and tucked it into the front pocket of his pants. 

Shiro picked up his stuff last, a thumb brushing over the pocket that he stuffed Lance’s number into. “Let’s meet here at around six and head out to the coffee shop.” 

Lance clapped a hand on Shiro shoulder, “That sounds like a plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> A thanks to my beta, tango1_1. I appreciate it, bud.
> 
> This was supposed to be a longer fic, but because constantly writing essays messed with my writing style, I dropped it. I'm sorry about that.


End file.
